


Stubborn

by Skelepup



Series: Does Jumin Han is Ace? [2]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Asexual Jumin Han, Asexuality, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Reader gets in a tough spot and it really freaks Jumin out, Some kissing, also seven's in a good chunk of the fic for plot reasons and because I love him, cuddles ensue, he's bffs with mc, maybe???, mentions of potential assault, nothing happens but it's not the best situation to be in so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 05:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8652853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skelepup/pseuds/Skelepup
Summary: You only wanted to pick up snacks for the RFA movie night, but when a run-in with a stranger leaves you feeling uneasy and cornered in a convenience store, you're actually a little afraid. More than your stubborn pride would ever admit. Luckily, a certain hacker and an overprotective boyfriend are always there to help, if you'd just let them!
Or, in which you scare Jumin Han shitless and argue with him about bodyguards.





	

**Author's Note:**

> All right, round two! It's much easier to write Jumin in a less introspective piece, in my opinion, so hopefully he and everyone else come off fairly accurate in this. Prepare yourself for the fluff.
> 
> A few notes about this AU series: Jumin is asexual, somewhere between sex-indifferent and sex-repulsed; he and the reader are only dating and don't live together; and MC, the reader, has a pet pit bull named Alexander.
> 
> Enjoy!

You're being followed.

At least, you're pretty positive you are. You're trying to keep your head and not panic at the thought.

You're holding a cheap stuffed bear in your hands, looking intently at it as if you're considering the purchase. In all actuality, you're rubbing your thumbs across its soft fur to calm yourself, trying to imagine it's Alexander or Elizabeth 3rd. While you do so, you peek from the corners of your eyes to the end of the aisle, watching. It takes a few moments, but--

There. He passes by again, trying and failing to look casual as he glances at you. You clutch the poor bear a little tighter.

All you'd wanted was to run to the convenience store a few blocks away and pick up some snacks for the movie night you were planning for Jaehee and the boys tomorrow night. No authentic Honey Buddha chips for Seven and Yoosung, unfortunately, but damn it, your mom always had junk food galore at your sleepovers and you wanted to be just as great a hostess.

Maybe you were naive or too trusting (hell, your whole induction into the RFA is probably proof enough of that), but you just...

You just didn't see this coming at all.

Sure, it's nearing midnight, sky black and your sleepy edge of the city rather quiet, but you'd done this plenty of times before. You were dressed in old sweatpants and a hoody, no makeup, certainly not attractive enough to garner the innocent attention of some passing-by admirer.

You don't sense any innocence in this guy's interest, though. You've always had pretty great intuition with people and their intentions. You've always been great at reading and understanding people in general. You probably have that understanding to thank for having Jumin in your life.

Something in your chest loosens and calms immediately at the thought of your boyfriend, ever protective. If you called him now, explained that you were uncomfortable and wanted a ride back home or even a squad of bodyguards, you know he'd do so in a heartbeat without any further explanation. Hell, he'd probably show up alongside them, eyes dark and furious as he searched for whoever dared to make you uncomfortable. 

But then would come the insistent suggestions of having a bodyguard constantly at your side, or just having a driver take you everywhere. You already had enough issues convincing Jumin that yes, your apartment was perfectly safe and comfortable. No, you did not need your own penthouse, thank you.

You know he just cares and worries (and maybe you're still trying to work through that fearful possessiveness, just a little), but you do not want to rile the poor man up like that, especially if this is just a false alarm. Maybe you're just tired and imagining all of this stalking nonsense. Maybe you imagined passing this man at the bus stop, too, or his eyes locking onto yours with keen interest. Or him following you up and down the aisles at a distance, absolutely nothing in his arms as he "shopped".

Your intuition tells you you aren't imagining it, though, and it's been right more times than you'd care to count.

The situation terrifies you. What do you even do in a situation like this? Oh, how you wish this store allowed pets so you could've brought Alexander instead of leaving him at home on the couch. The giant pit bull may be the sweetest creature in existence, but this man wouldn't know that. And you have no doubt the pup would defend you if he needed to. You don't even have mace or, like, a switchblade or anything. God, why don't you, you idiot?

You try to take a few soothing breaths as you unhurriedly walk to the candy aisle, bear hugged tight to your chest. Don't lose your head, Em, c'mon, this store's open until one. You have time. Maybe you can wait him out? Your stubborn side is trying hard to come up with any solution besides calling your overprotective boyfriend, but you don't know what you can do unless you know for sure this guy has bad intentions and is following you. After all, you can't watch his every move for the last half an hour through the security cameras or--

Oh. You slap a hand to your forehead and wonder if the creep got to see your moment of amusing epiphany.

You're quick to pull out your cell phone and dial Seven's number, shifting anxiously from foot to foot as you listen to it ringing. Huh. Maybe you could just act like you were calling someone to come pick you up, loudly, and the man would leave? You stash the mediocre plan away in the back of your mind.

Finally, Seven's cheery voice hits your ears, and the sheer relief almost makes you dizzy. "MC! Whatcha you up to, calling so late? Miss my voice? Oh! Did Alexander miss me?" He gets notably more excited (and he already sounded pretty damn excited to begin with) at the mention of his favorite dog.

Despite the situation, you can't help laughing a little, making your way back towards the ladies restroom. "I'm sure he does, but he'll just have to wait for your blessings until tomorrow night. I was actually calling to ask for a quick favor, if you have time..?"

He hums, and you can hear the click of him typing away at his keyboard. "Just give me a sec, aaaand...there! God Seven is at your beck and call. Whatcha need, Em?"

You anxiously twirl a strand of hair around your finger and lock yourself into the first stall of the bathroom, trying to keep the mild fear out of your voice. "Okay, so I'm probably just imagining this and overreacting and we're both about to laugh at how stupid this is, but. Uh. Is there any way you can hack into the security cam feed outside of the Locust Street bus stop and the feed from inside the convenience store on that corner?"

You can tell he's thinking by the silence on the other end of the line. Then, he's tapping away again.

"Sure, no problem," he chirps, but you can hear the suspicion in his voice as it drops to a more serious tone. "Why?"

Something in the plumbing clangs, and you jump. God, MC, get a fucking hold of yourself.

"Would you be able to speed through those two cams over the last forty minutes or so and see if you see anything strange?" You ask instead.

He doesn't answer, and that alone tells you how aware he is that something is really bothering you. It takes a minute or two in which you realize that, oh shit, maybe locking yourself into a secluded little bathroom in the dead of night when there are maybe two employees in the store was not a great idea? You just trapped yourself. You hurry back outside, heart pounding and half-hopeful that the man will be gone.

For a moment you think he is, but no--he's at the corner of the magazine section now, still no merchandise in his hands at all. He's not old, maybe just a decade or so older than you, and he doesn't really look like a sketchy character at first glance...

You just have a bad feeling. And you've learned to trust those over the years.

"You're being followed."

Seven's voice in your ear makes you startle again, and you wonder with a bit of shame whether he's watching the live feed right now and saw that.

"That's what I thought," you breathe in an almost-sigh, ducking behind some more shelves. "I can't like, I dunno, call the cops or something, right?"

He hums, and when he speaks again his voice is low. You hate having to make him sound so worried.

God, if this is what Seven sounds like, Jumin would be ten times worse.

"No, unfortunately since he hasn't done anything you don't really have a ‘legitimate’--" you can hear the irritated air quotes even through the phone. "--reason for them to come to you."

You groan an annoyed little sound (just knowing Seven's aware of your situation and is helping you out has already soothed your fear considerably, bringing you down from terror to a manageable level of annoyance), and his voice hardens.

"You aren't thinking of walking back on your own."

"No, not really," you say, quietly, moving away to the refrigerated section since the man has gravitated closer again.

"I think you mean, 'Of course not!' because if you did, every single member of the RFA would kill you for doing something so dumb, and Jumin would have to kiss you back to life before lecturing you for a week straight, young lady."

You can't help a huff of laughter as warm affection wriggles its way into your chest. God, you love these wonderful dorks so much.

"Seriously though," he says, voice growing quiet again. "Don't try walking back on your own. I mean it."

"I know, I know. But, uh, what do you suggest I do, exactly..?"

He hums again, tapping away. "I mean, I can always come walk you back home. I'm a little surprised you haven't called Jumin to send over a car or something yet, though. I assume there's a reason?"

You flip idly through a corny birthday card and shift the bear, warmed from your body heat, closer to you. Then you glance around to be sure the man isn't nearby. "You know as well as I do that he would panic and freak out if he knew I was ever followed like this, no matter the reason."

You'd already thought it through a bit more while in the restroom, that maybe this creep had simple, sexual, more...revolting reasons urging him on. Or, if the magazine he was flipping through earlier before glancing up at you, once and then twice, is at all telling, maybe he recognizes you as Jumin's girlfriend. You yourself are fairly broke as a college student living (most of the time) on her own. You don't carry around a billfold of Jumin's money or have a pearl necklace hidden away beneath your hoodie.

But this man doesn't know that.

Seven makes a disgruntled sort of "Mhmm" sound, dragging it out as he thinks. You have no doubt he'll figure out your own deductions in no time, genius that he is. Then, "I thought you two had this whole 'open and honest' policy thing, though? No secrecy and all that perfect couple jazz. I think this definitely counts."

Ugh. Of course he'd know to use that against you. He's right, and now you feel guilty.

"Sevennn," you groan, tipping your head back to glare at the nearest security camera. "Damn you."

You can hear the cheeky grin in his voice. "You're welcome!"

"I just...you know how worried he's going to get, Seven. I don't want him to panic about this. He's going to want to have a bodyguard following me around my own home, and it's not that big a deal."

"Hey," Seven says, sharp and reprimanding. It surprises you. "Your safety is kind of a giant deal, okay? And if you're gonna be a stubborn little shit, then may I remind you how upset he'll be if, hmm, a certain hacker tells him instead about your little ordeal tonight?"

You freeze. "You wouldn't."

"Oh ho ho, but I would," he says, tone teasing and light again.

"Seven! I thought you were my bro, what the hell?"

"I'm just saying, even if you don't want to tell him, I would feel much better if this pushed you to action. He doesn't have to monitor you 24/7 or anything. Just...I dunno, take some self-defense classes, at least pack a taser or mace or something. Honestly, we'd all feel better if you had at least that, with how often you walk from place to place. Especially at," he pauses. "Nearly midnight. Really, Em?"

That gets you, and you deflate a bit from your anger. "You guys don't coddle Jaehee like this."

"Jaehee knows Judo and always has a taser with her. Trust me, she's a lot more prepared than you. We've already looked into it."

"We?"

Seven chuckles. "Jaehee may act like she's just Jumin's assistant most of the time, but the rest of us saw her as a friend pretty quickly. We all know how fucking messed up people can be, especially to cute girls like you two, so yeah."

"Wow, you guys are protective as shit, aren't you?" You ask, aiming for teasing. Your voice comes out far too soft, too warm with affection.

"Can you blame us? Which is why if you don't call Jumin and let him come help you, I'm going to tell him about this myself and not lift a finger to help when he tries to wrap you up in a blanket burrito of safety. Your choice!" He adds the last part as a little sing-song.

You grumble under your breath, weighing your options for a few moments despite knowing your choice is already made. If Jumin was going to find out either way, it'd hurt a lot more to hear it from Seven, and it would probably make him wonder why you hid it from him.

You let out a heavy sigh and move on to the cleaning products, idly scanning through the different brands.

"Fine. I'll call him and ask for someone to walk me home. I'll tell him and he'll freak out and it'll be all your fault, Seven."

"You're welcome!" Seven chirps again. "I'll keep an eye on the security feed until he comes, okay? Just shoot me a text when you're safely in the car."

"All right, all right," you sigh, admitting defeat. "Thank you, Seven. Really. I appreciate it." You know you'd still be an anxious mess with no game plan if he hadn't picked up.

"No prob, Bob! See you and Alexander tomorrow, right?"

You grin a little, moving towards the front door to grab a hand basket before doubling back to the snacks. "Sure will. He'll have to fill the Elly-shaped hole in your heart, since I doubt Zen would sit through an entire movie night with her nearby."

He laughs, not even bothering to whine about the loss of his love. "We'll see. Jumin's a stubborn man. I'm sure that either way I'll get to dote on her again soon."

You can almost see the heart at the end of the sentence, and you roll your eyes, smiling. Guess you'd better warn Jumin that Seven was planning an Elly playtime raid again soon. "Goodbye, Seven."

"See ya! Good luck!"

You hang up, stare at your contacts, and then sigh again before flicking the screen down to Jumin, the little purple heart tailing his name making you smile. You click on the call button and wedge the phone between your shoulder and ear, trying to ignore the creep still drifting by the ends of the aisles every once in a while. You have snacks to pick out, damn it. And a boyfriend to distress, apparently.

On the third ring, he picks up. "Hello, love. You aren't in bed yet?"

"Jumin!" You greet, the tension that was still sitting heavy in your stomach miraculously unraveling at his warm voice. "Hey! No, I'm not in bed yet. You should know better than that by now," you tease.

"There's no moon out tonight. I figured that maybe even the night owl sleeps then," he jokes back. His sense of humor is so strange and awkward but it never fails to make you smile, if not fall into snorting laughter.

"You weren't sleeping, were you?" You ask, grabbing two bags of Doritos (cool ranch for Zen and taco for Jaehee) and plopping them into your basket.

"No, just spending time with Elizabeth 3rd and watching that strange American film you recommended."

You pause, eyes widening. "You're watching Inception?!"

"Yes, and while it is actually quite interesting, I'm a bit confused on a few of the relationship points. Perhaps you could explain them next time you come over."

"Sure, sure!" You agree, nodding enthusiastically as you grab a box of popcorn with a variety of flavors in it. "It's a date! So you like it, though?"

He hums. "Surprisingly so, yes. I'm sure the director could have found some method for including a cat in such an intricate script, but that is my only complaint."

"Surprise, surprise," you comment sarcastically, still smiling.

"They are incredibly handsome creatures, MC."

"Can't argue with that," you laugh, melting a little at his defensive tone.

There's a brief, comfortable lull while you sweep a few different packages of candy into your basket.

"I still question the logistics of that," you hear him mumble. "Apologies, dear. What're you doing at the moment?" Jumin asks eventually.

You frown, looking through your haul. Hm. You need some soup packets or something for an actual meal tomorrow before the junk food feast. Well, as real a meal as ever happens at your house.

"I'm actually picking out snacks for tomorrow evening. You like the little fish, right?"

He responds with a little hum of delight, and you laugh. He loves that he can eat little fish gummies while Elizabeth 3rd eats real fish. God, he's so ridiculous sometimes.

Then, he goes silent, and you have a feeling he's fully registered your answer.

"Are you out by yourself?" Shit, you know that tone. He's already worried.

"Yeah. But I do this all the time! It's just the convenience store down the road from my apartment." Why the hell are you trying to reassure him how safe this is before explaining that you're being stalked?

"I don't like you being out that late on your own," he says, quietly, and you can picture his anxious little frown perfectly. He's always so careful not to sound possessive of you nowadays but, well. He worries. You appreciate that.

"Really, hon, it's perfectly--ah, well. It's um, safe, usually." Smooth, MC. Jesus.

Although Jumin is still figuring out the subtlety of emotional cues with others (and himself, really), the man is sharp. And he knows you.

"'Usually'?" He questions, voice suddenly hard. Fuck. You wince a bit, picking through the soda and liquor options. Most of it's pretty cheap, but...

"Yeah. That's why I didn't text you or call you later before bed, actually. I really hate to ask this, but, uh...is there anyone you could send down here to escort me back to my apartment? A bodyguard or driver or somebody? I'm really sorry to ask, but..."

He ignores your apologies, and you can practically hear him tense up, sitting upright and stilling his strokes of Elizabeth's fur. "What happened?"

"Nothing," you half-lie. "Not really. I'm just..." You pause, warring with yourself. You've always been an extremely independent person, stubbornly so, but you've been encouraging him to be so much more open with his emotions. Usually you're very free with your own emotions because most of them are positive. Negative emotions, on the other hand...

But if he's being brave and facing his own feelings, maybe you should, too.

"I'm just--" your voice is a little tight, so you clear your throat and glance up as the man drifts by the aisle again, like a giant bird gliding circles above a cornered rabbit. It makes you feel sick. "I'm...kinda scared. A little."

There's a moment of silence, and then you hear a rustle of clothing and a protesting meow as Jumin gets up.

"Are you okay?" He asks, urgently, fear taut in every word.

"Yes! Yes, don't freak out, please. I'm fine. I'm in the store and there are employees around, so he can't do anything--"

He catches the implications, growling out, "Someone is making you uncomfortable?"

Oh, wow, you didn't know he could sound that intense that quickly. It makes some small, more vulnerable part of you feel safer.

"Sort of," you offer, hesitantly. "I'm really okay, Jumin, I just wanted to check--"

"I'm on my way," he says, cutting off the beginnings of your rambling. You just nod, feeling the last bits of fear melt away from you, calming relief taking their place.

"Thank you," you say, quietly, as you wrangle up the last of the snacks. "Sorry about this."

"Don't be," Jumin assures you, voice softer again. "I'll be there in 15 minutes. Will you stay on the phone with me?"

"Sure," you say, knowing that he needs the reassurance of your safety more than you do at the moment. "I am going to go check out, though, so I won't be able to talk for a few minutes."

"That's fine."

You make your way up to the counter, where two men are manning the registers, chatting with each other. The older man smiles as you approach and asks how your night it going, to which you offer a polite lie and return the formality. The younger cashier looks at you with a little frown, and then glances past you, over your shoulder.

While the older man starts ringing up items, the younger one continues to glare at something behind you. You shoot a curious look over your own shoulder and are not surprised to see the creep stalling by one of the aisles, not-so-subtly waiting around.

You turn back around and lock eyes with the younger cashier, who's staring back intently, clearly trying to convey a message to you. You smile back warmly, hoping your gratitude comes through with the gesture. "Excuse me," You whisper to him, pressing your phone back to your ear. "So what time did you say you'd be here, love?"

You can hear the confusion in the silence that responds to you, but he answers regardless. "In about 10 minutes. Are you still all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Just glad I won't have to walk home," you say, purposely louder than you need to.

The younger cashier smirks a little as realization dawns, and he gives the creep an almost smug look over your shoulder. You like this kid.

Jumin hums, quietly. He's just figured out what you're doing. Good, so now he can roll with it.

You watch in mild amusement as the cashier rings up the little stuffed bear who had kept you grounded throughout this ordeal. You'd set him on the counter accidentally alongside the groceries and hadn't meant to actually buy the little guy, but it's too late now. He kept you sane so you've promised your love to him.

You pay and smile brightly when both men wish you a safe night, moving to stand beside the doors and wait.

"Talk to me," you murmur into the phone, worried. You hope he isn't too upset about this.

"Sorry, love. Just...thinking"

"Fretting like a mother hen, you mean."

He doesn't deny it, instead asking, "What would you like me to speak about?"

"Anything," you answer back, smiling a little. "How was Elizabeth 3rd before I so rudely interrupted your time with her?"

"As beautiful as ever," he sighs, fondly. "I was recently made aware of a strange device that is said to assist in petting animals. It's a glove you wear, with little nubs on one end to brush gently through fur. I had someone pick it up for me to try with Elizabeth, but she seemed more perplexed than anything by it."

You can't help a short, snorting bark of laughter. Jumin got a damn infomercial pet brush. Oh my god. You can picture it perfectly: him sitting up straight and regal as ever, perfectly dressed in his nightclothes and stroking Elizabeth with the fucking paw print pattern oven mitt.

"What?" He asks, amused.

"Nothing," you say, still beaming. "You're just...wonderful, you know that?"

You can practically hear him fluster through the phone, and you decide to have mercy before he fumbles out a response.

"Even if Elizabeth doesn't like the brush, maybe we could try it with Alexander. He likes just about anything," you suggest.

Jumin chuckles and offers a response, but you're too distracted to hear it. The creep who's been following you passes right by you and out the sliding doors, walk brisk and posture hunched. He didn't buy anything. He glances at you over his shoulder, just once, brow furrowed and brown eyes cold. A chill runs down your spine. You watch him go, holding your breath until he's out of sight in the darkness.

"MC? Em." Jumin's urgent voice, distant and tinny, brings you back. You hurry to press the phone back to your ear.

"O-Oh! Sorry. I'm back. What were you saying?"

Jumin sighs, sounding somewhere between exasperated and relieved. "Don't frighten me like that. We're just about there."

You nod, perking up and looking intently out the doors. It takes no more than a minute or two for the flash of headlights to cut through the blackness, and then the slick body of some sort of expensive car (it's not a limo, but you have no doubt it's worth just about as much) pulls into view.

You grin, relieved, and step outside, throwing a thankful wave over your shoulder at the cashiers.

The back door opens, and Jumin steps out, posture visibly relaxing when he can see you and scan his eyes down your body for injuries. "I'll have to call you back," you say wryly into the phone. "Some handsome man just pulled by to pick me up."

\-----

Jumin can only offer up a small smirk in return as he stares at you, so relieved to find you unharmed. "In that case, give the handsome fellow a kiss for me, will you?"

You laugh, throwing your head back and disconnecting the call. He feels a rush of pride, as he always does when he manages to make you laugh aloud. He moves to your side, briefly stepping into your space to brush his lips over the top of your hair. Then he takes two of the stuffed plastic bags from your side, pausing to glare into the store's sliding doors. "Is he still inside?"

You shake your head, urging him away from the overly-bright fluorescent lighting and to the quiet rumbling of the car. You both climb into the back, and immediately your hands find each other to interlock and squeeze tight. Jumin gives the driver his home coordinates, and you snap to look at him, frowning.

"Alexander's at home, Jumin, I can't stay over tonight."

"We can pick him up along the way," he offers, trying and failing to sound casual.

You look at him, searching his eyes, before turning back towards the driver and asking to instead stop by your address. Jumin doesn't try to stop you, despite the knot still tied up in his stomach. Instead he watches you intently, occasionally glancing down from your face to skim over your legs and torso. Just in case.

You seem fine now, but your phone call earlier really shook him. You have a nasty habit of trying to do everything on your own to not worry anyone, so he knows how desperate you must've been for help, how helpless you had to feel to call him. He's not sure he'll ever be able to forget how small your voice sounded just minutes ago on the phone, how it trembled. Protective fury and fear alike had sent him rushing out of the penthouse without a second thought.

You're staring up at him again, and he meets your gaze, considering pressing his forehead to yours so he can feel your breathing. You despise mushy public acts--what had you called them? PDA?--but he wants so badly to hold you close right now. All he can do is switch hands with you and wrap his other arm around you, feel the relieving solidity of your warmth.

You turn yourself to curl into him, and his heart drops. You must have really been scared if you were this willing to get close with the driver so near.

"I'm sorry about this," you whisper.

He frowns and squeezes your hand. "There is absolutely nothing to apologize for. I would go to the ends of the earth and back for you, you know that. This is nothing."

You nod, holding onto him a little tighter, but don't respond.

"What happened?" He asks, after a moment or two of silence. He can't stand not knowing.

You move to rest your chin on him, peering up at him in the near-darkness. A passing streetlight illuminates you for just a second. "Promise you won't freak out?"

He rumbles deep in his chest, frowning hard. "I'll do my best to remain calm."

You hum, apparently deeming that good enough, before moving small, slim fingers to fiddle with the pocket on his ("adorable", you'd called them) matching nightclothes. He'd been too terrified to worry about changing.

"I was followed," you say, quietly, gaze flicking towards the driver and back. "By someone at the bus stop I pass on the way to the store."

Jumin tries to stifle the immediate panic that wells up in his chest at the thought of you in danger again, holding you a little too tightly to him. You don't protest, instead turning to rest your cheek against his chest.

"He followed me to the store and was just...waiting. Lurking around the aisles and passing by me constantly. I wanted to make sure I wasn't paranoid, so I called Seven--" there's that old, dark jealousy, that possessiveness, flaring up in him. He shoves it down and swallows hard. "--so he could check the security cams and make sure I wasn't crazy."

Ah. That does make sense. Most of the irrational jealousy falls away.

"Oh!" You sit up, and he reluctantly releases you as you dig out your phone and type a frantic message into the screen. "Sorry, hang on. I told Seven that I'd text when you got here so he knew I was safe."

Jumin can't stop the sudden, extreme wave of gratitude for Luciel's friendship with the both of you. Jumin rubs idly at your back as he watches your focused expression, trying to ignore the horrible thoughts of what could've happened if you didn't call either of them. He knows you had to have thought of walking back on your own despite the clear danger; you're stubborn and fiercely independent, not one to rely on others even when you really should.

This situation in particular scares him senseless. You're small, and though you can run and are in fairly good shape, he knows from past experience with tickle fights and teasing that you are worryingly weak compared to his own strength, average for most males his age. Horrific, gut-turning scenes flash through his head, of you being grabbed or hit, slammed back into a wall, crying out in pain while some sick fuck hurts you or--

Stop. Stop. Jumin's heart is racing, and his stomach is painfully nauseous with fury and horror mixed into one abominable cocktail of emotions. He takes a few deep breaths and lets your relaxed face soothe him, lit by the glow of your phone. Your eyes flick back and forth as you type, lips quirking into a tiny smile. He has a feeling that he has Luciel to thank for your ultimate safety and makes a note to thank the hacker later on.

"There," you say with a small smile, putting your phone away. You glance out the window as the car pulls to a stop. You'd made it to your apartment.

Jumin locks eyes with you, and you both know immediately this talk isn't over. But he also knows that you will refuse to come over tonight when it's already so late and you have so much to do at home in the morning.

He sighs, still amazed at how often the gentle fire in your gaze can break him down so easily, melt him until he's putty in your hands.

"Driver Chang?"

"Yes, Mr. Han?"

"I will be staying here tonight. Would you please tell the chief bodyguard to assure that everything is secure at the penthouse and that Elizabeth 3rd's bowls are full?"

"O-of course, sir!"

He turns back to see you quirking an eyebrow at him.

"Oh. Yes. May I spend the night, dear?"

You can't help it when he's so genuinely tactless about people's customs, no ill will in his rude assumptions. You huff a laugh, shaking your head. "Fine, fine. You know my sheet’s thread count is, like, super low, right? Will you survive?"

"I will find a way to struggle through the agony," he promises, solemn.

You laugh again, louder and more comfortable (and he smiles in turn, staring at the way your whole face lights up when you laugh) before gathering up some of your bags and calling out a polite, "Thank you!" to the driver. Jumin follows close behind, snagging the remaining groceries.

The two of you walk up to your apartment, and you take a moment to fish out your keys. Excited snuffling and yips come from behind the door as you fiddle with the locks.

When you swing open the door, Alexander is immediately on you, whining and bumping his huge head and shoulders into your thighs. His tail is wagging wildly, whipping at your knees as he sniffs first at your sweatpants and then Jumin's sleepwear. Jumin's not sure he'll ever be completely ready for the pit bull's daunting size, huge and intimidating compared to Elizabeth 3rd's tiny frame.

"Ally!" You laugh happily and hurry to put down your bags on the kitchen counter. When you crouch down and rub at Alexander's cheeks, cooing baby talk to him as he tries to lick your face, Jumin kneels as well to greet his second-favorite animal companion. He never thought he'd be so fond of another animal besides Elizabeth 3rd, but, well. There's a lot of things he didn't realize before he met you.

You go to put the groceries away while Jumin keeps Alexander company, stroking the top of the dog's head and around his broad tawny shoulders. Alexander sits and happily receives the affection, golden eyes squinted and content. You're easily his favorite person, but Jumin has certainly won some favor as well with his expert shoulder rubs.

You return to his side after a moment, grinning. "Aww, Ally, is Jumin giving you some lovin', baby?"

Although there's something endearing about the insufferable baby talk when you say it, Jumin still can't help but be grateful you never talk to Elizabeth 3rd the same way. Well, not around him, at least. 

Alexander abandons Jumin to push against you, almost knocking you over, and you crouch down to hug him tight. The pup happily wiggles in your arms.

"Did you get everything for tomorrow, then?" Jumin asks, and you peer up from Alexander's short fur.

"I think so, yeah." You start to count off on your fingers. "Knockoff Honey Buddha chips for Yoosung and Seven, Doritos for Zen and Jaehee, a new surprise chip for you--" he's tried so few chip flavors in his life that you two have taken to making it a game, with him trying new ones whenever the opportunity arises. "--and back-up garden vegetable straws in case you hate the surprise chip! Plus candy, popcorn, soup for supper, and a few packs of juice and soda. I have no idea what kind of liquor everyone likes yet."

You nod to yourself, looking up at him with a bright smile. "Sound okay?"

"Sounds like diabetes is in our future."

Your laughter is sudden and bright, bursting out of you like it simply can't be contained in your small frame. You shove him lightly with a hand, barely making him budge. "You are awful, Jumin Han."

"Mm. I'm awful, now? I see Zen has brainwashed you. We'll have to reverse the effects." He rises to his feet and offers a hand, and you take it, grin cheeky.

"However will we combat such a horrible affliction, Doctor?" You're trying and failing to fight off your smile, turning to sag against him dramatically, back of your hand against your head as you swoon.

"Hm. It is serious, from what I gather." He keeps his voice stern, rubbing at his chin. He makes a show of looking off into the distance, before his gaze starts to wander aimlessly around your small apartment. Even he can't deny how cozy and comforting the space is, though he feels that has far less to do with the apartment itself and more with the very distinct you-ness in the decorations and clutter.

He peeks at you from the corner of his eye before lunging to scoop you up in his arms, bridal style. You shriek and cling to him, giggling against his neck as he holds you closer and marches instead off towards the bedroom.

"Doctor, where are you taking me?" You ask, looking scandalized. For some odd reason, you suddenly have a thick, corny accent. He quirks an amused smile at you and you shrug as your fiddle with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Gotta get in character, love."

He nudges your door open, still a little caught off guard by the clothes and blankets strewn about haphazardly. You'd been so embarrassed the first few times he saw your room like this, but apparently not any longer. Instead, you "faint" in his arms, slinging your head back with a "Guh!" and lolling your tongue.

God, sometimes you are just so...silly. His chest feels as though it may burst.

He drops you gently onto the bed, and you giggle and roll over to make room for him, wrapping yourself up in a blanket in the process.

"Have you turned into a chrysalis, love?"

You huff a laugh, perhaps at the awkwardness of his teasing, before unrolling yourself right to his side, snuggling against him once you're free of the comforter.

"Indeed I did. But now I am free! And you will cuddle the hell out of this butterfly, Jumin Han."

He chuckles, quick to press himself closer to you. "Ah, but cuddling is the cure for Zen's dreaded affliction! So I suppose I can struggle through the treatment, for you, my love. It may take a great deal of time."

"A shame."

"Truly." He tucks your head under his chin and you wrap your arms around his chest, squeezing tight. He hugs you back until there isn't a centimeter of space between your bodies, flush against one another as your legs tangle. It's warm, and safe, and he can smell your shampoo. Your heartbeat thumps insistently at his chest, like it's asking to be let into his ribs to play.

The underlying tension that's been present in every muscle since you called him starts to relax. You are here, with him, unharmed and happy. Safe.

"You okay?" You whisper.

Jumin lets out a breath of bitter laughter. "I should be asking you that."

You struggle a bit, eventually pulling back enough to meet his eyes. Your lips are pressed into a concerned line, brow knitted and hair a bit of a mess. Your golden eyes are sharp in the low light, heated with concern. He can't believe he gets to see you like this, that he gets to be looked at like this by you.

"Jumin, seriously," you murmur, reaching up a hand to stroke at his cheekbone. He tilts into your touch, still so starved for every single brush of your skin against his. "I know it scares you, to think of anything happening to me."

As if to confirm your words, he squeezes your waist, frowning just the tiniest bit as he turns to peck at your fingertips with light, needy kisses.

You hum happily at the contact, but move your hand to push his face back towards yours, forcing your eyes to meet. "Jumin, I need to know you're okay, honey."

"I would rather not speak about it," he mumbles like a stubborn little boy, burying his face into where your neck connects to your shoulder. You shiver a little under the warm puffs of his breathing. Hm. He still isn't ready to try putting aside his uncertainty to pleasure you sexually, but he'll have to remember that spot.

You're silent for a few moments, moving one hand up to stroke through his hair. His eyes slide shut. "Sooo, if you don't want to talk about this, then I can get out of your insistence on having bodyguards follow me around for my protection, right?"

Oh, so that's your strategy. Jumin squeezes you tighter to him. "Completely different issues, love."

"Worth trying, though," you mumble into his neck.

"So you will accept a bodyguard?"

"Why not ten?" You ask back, sarcastically. Jumin pulls back, eyeing you hopefully. "Oh my god. I was joking, Jumin!"

His face falls. "You need protection. I will follow you around myself if need be."

You barely stop yourself from a teasing quip of "stalker", knowing how uncomfortable the term would make you both, between the whole possessiveness issue from months ago and what happened just an hour ago at the convenience store. Instead, you say, "Seven suggested I learn some self-defense, get some mace or something." You shrug. "I could deal with that."

Jumin stares into your eyes, stubborn gold burning into his own concerned platinum. "You aren't going to back down on this, are you?"

You smile and rub your thumb under his eye, against the softness of his eyelid. "You know me, Jumin. You tell me."

He heaves a sigh, leaning into your touch and returning the affection by rubbing his thumbs against your back and hip. He does know you, and if his past twenty attempts are anything to gauge by, then no, you won't back down on this.

"What is so awful about the bodyguards? I will gladly give you the ones you are closer to."

You giggle, leaning forward to peck a quick kiss on his lips. "Not the point, as much as I would love to see Ally try to get the bodyguards to play with him every day." 

"Seriously," Jumin half-grumbles and half-huffs, letting you and only you see his childish, sillier side.

You don't answer, but you do lock eyes with him again, face maddeningly cryptic as you think. You bite your lip, flick your gaze away and then back, hesitant. "I just...it makes me feel...trapped. I like being on my own sometimes, Jumin. Y'know, depending on myself."

Jumin feels his stomach twist to his feet at the word "trapped", the word filling him with a sick wave of shame. He's tried over and over to put the memory out of his mind, but it's there, from right after the two of you had first met in person. You, backed against the wall of his penthouse, looking what he recognizes now as distinctly nervous. Him, boxing you in, looming over you. You'd voiced your discomfort, voice tight (with fear? God, he still hopes not. He's too terrified to ask.) but eyes molten gold, burning defiant and fierce up at him.

He must truly look a mess when the panic closes up his throat, because you spot it immediately.

"Hey, shh," you whisper, hurrying to cuddle closer again, rubbing at the silk arm of his nightshirt. "I'm fine, it's fine."

"I never want to make you feel trapped," he whispers, the words sticking in his throat as he gathers you up into his arms, smells your hair. He's suddenly very aware of his heartbeat thumping wildly against his chest, knocking desperately onto yours now. Let him in, let him in, let him in.

"You're fine, I don't feel trapped at all," you soothe. "It's okay."

Gradually, his distress dies down a bit. His hold on you loosens, marginally, and you wriggle closer to compensate.

"I love you," he whispers, voice rough.

"I love you, too." Your reply is immediate, confident. Content. It deflates that last bit of tightness in his chest, allows him to breathe.

"It is not...my preferred level of protection, but...you would take self-defense classes? I can pay for them."

You huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head a bit at the offer. He doesn't know whether that's a declination of his offer or just amusement. "It's not a bad idea, after tonight. Alexander won't always be around to protect me when you're not here."

Jumin feels a warm rush of pride that you consider his presence so comforting. "Assistant Kang knows self-defense, correct?"

"Judo," you confirm. "Maybe she can give me a suggestion for where to go."

He hums in agreement, shifting his leg a bit from where it's sandwiched between yours. There are a few moments of silence, comfortable and warm, before you try burrowing into him, pressing almost on top of him. He feels your fingers latch onto his clothes.

"You sure you are all right?" He murmurs.

You nod into the crook of his neck. "It was just..." You stop yourself, take a breath, and Jumin's alarmed when it shakes. "It's just starting to really hit me again how close I came to--that I could've been..."

You trail off, fingers clenching harder around his nightclothes. It's clear what dark route that was taking, though, and cold fear shudders up his spine, clenches at his gut. He just wants to hold you here forever, never let you be harmed.

But you are free, and bright, smart and skilled and kind. The world needs you. You need the world.

Just not this instant.

Jumin reluctantly tears himself away from you, just a bit (you try to cling to him, whimpering in a way that tells him how terrified you really were before he and Seven calmed you down), just enough to lean behind him and reach over to the bedside lamp. He clicks one of its two bulbs off, so that the harshness of its light is dimmed into a comforting, sleepy wash over the room.

Jumin hurries back to you, letting you clutch at him. He rubs your back as you tremble very lightly under him.

"...Jumin?"

Your voice is soft, and maybe still the slightest bit shaky. He looks down to the top of your head. "Yes?"

"Can I...kiss you? Say no if you don't want to. Be honest."

Jumin pauses, a small bit of surprise running through him. You two have kissed a few times before, but usually not for long. You admitted one night (reluctantly, cringing under his questions) that it's frustrating, sexually, to kiss him so heatedly and then have it lead to no release. That was...not a good night for him. He laid awake for hours under a crushing weight of self-loathing, letting it steal away his breath. Bless you, you never try to push him into anything sexual ever since you'd discovered his asexuality. You don't even suggest it, save for the occasional flirty comment that slips out.

He actually doesn't mind kissing...it's just anything further than that he gets unsure of, uncomfortable with. But kissing, kissing he can handle, especially when you go so far as to ask him. You need him right now, need him to cling to and lose yourself in, and he will gladly give himself, body and soul.

A quiet "Nevermind" breaks him from his thoughts.

"I would love to, dear," he amends, quietly, and he's quick to lean up, over you, rolling you with him so you're looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Don't feel like you have to," you say, brow furrowing a bit. "Seriously."

"Seriously," he echoes, tapping your foreheads together. "I would love to kiss the most beautiful woman in the world."

You frown harder. "Well tell her that you're mine."

That one catches him off-guard, and he laughs, louder and more openly than he usually allows himself to. He doesn't like when you use self-deprecating humor, but, well...you're beaming below him, looking far too pleased at the accomplishment.

He just leans down to your ear, whispering, "Then let me prove it to you, how beautiful you are." Your breath catches. Shit, maybe that was a little too much. But he pushes the thought away and leans into you, pressing his lips to yours. You move against him, the both of you shifting as you kiss, soft and simple and warm against each other, trading breath and little smiles. He's leaning over you on his elbows, but he strokes idly at your hair as you reach up, cradling his face with one hand, the other stroking at his ribs with slim fingers.

Jumin is by no means an expert on kissing, but you've done this a few times by now, and he's just glad he's a fast learner. He doesn't really get anything out of it, physically-speaking, but it's all right when it's with you. It makes you happy. Even with no response from below the belt, it feels...intimate to him. Safe and loving and special, if a bit weird.

And Jumin needs that intimacy right now, needs you close, as close as you can be. And he knows you need the same.

Jumin nips at your lower lip, just enough to catch your attention, give you the green light. You respond with a brush of your tongue against his lips, still so careful to ask for permission. He confirms by opening his mouth, just a bit, and you return the favor eagerly. Slow, wet kisses, hot breaths. Your fingers move to rest at his shoulders.

He loves the way your breathing quickens over the minutes, heart beating fast where's it's pressed against his chest.

You lick at his lips, and some small part of him recoils at the daring move, the other part desperately craving your affection, wanting to get closer and closer to make you happy. Tentatively, he runs his own tongue along the inside of your lip, gliding over your teeth and the tip of your tongue. It's slippery and strange, but you make this adorable little huff of breath bordering on a whimper. He tries again, against your tongue, lips moving against your own. It's more than a little clumsy, but the tiny moan you give in response encourages him. Another try, and your tongues slide and push against each other, and the lack of air builds in his chest.

When you part for a breath, you're both panting, and he takes a moment to take you in as he licks his lips. Your eyes, lidded with pupils blown wide, track the movement. You're flushed and breathing hard, lips an especially pretty shade of pink. You look beautiful. Wild, almost. Or...vulnerable? No.

...Trusting. That's it. He has the briefest flash of anger towards himself, thinking that if he could just be attracted to you like you are to him (broken broken broken), you'd be absolutely...what was the word? Ravishing? He'd really be a fucking wreck, then.

He wishes he could be a wreck for you.

The heavy haze lifts from your eyes a bit, and you whisper, "Good?"

Jumin hesitates, but shakes his head. "I...if you're still all right? I know it's...frustrating, at a point."

You stare up at him, searching, breathing still a bit harsh. Then, you swallow. "Maybe it's a good thing you're ace."

He frowns, tilting his head at you. You're both a little frustrated about his sexuality at times, he knows this, so..?

You grin and push yourself up to meet him, chest to chest, lips tickling against the shell of his ear. "Because if you weren't, I'd never let you leave this bed."

Oh. Well. Even with his asexuality, the possessive part of him flares deliciously at your words.

"I love you," he growls, kissing you hard and pulling you closer as he sits up. You respond eagerly, following him up and leaning into him.

"I love you too. I love you so much," you whisper between kisses.

Somehow, there's more tenderness and less lust in your movements now, the kissing calming back into slow, loving movements. You're halfway nestled into his lap, and maybe that's why. You're hitting a point that would be hard to come back from without a little dissatisfaction.

It's an endless amount of time, hours maybe, probably minutes, before he can sense that you're calm again. You climb fully into his lap, nuzzling against him. He nuzzles back, sighing. Half content, half frustrated.

"I'm sorry," he breathes, as he usually does at the end of these little make out sessions. Sorry that he can't be everything you want and deserve, that's he's

(broken broken broken)

"Don't be sorry," you say, tone hard and almost scolding. When he doesn't respond, you pull away to look up at his face, expression sharp. "You'd better not be beating yourself up, Jumin Han. I love you too much to watch you do that."

He just flicks his gaze down to your lap, where you two have intertwined your hands. He wants to give you the world, love you in every way you want to be loved, but he just...can't. He's been trying so hard to change that, as if he could change his sexuality through sheer willpower, but it's...it's something that seems to just be ingrained in his biology. He's looked into treatments and medicines, but nothing seems to work.

"Jumin." You move your hands to his face, gently urge him to look at you, but he resists. "You are wonderful and I don't want to change a single thing about you. Please stop wishing you could."

"You'd be happier if I wasn't like this."

"We don't know that," you shoot back, voice unbearably soft and patient. "And there's no use dwelling on what-ifs. This is who you are. And I love who you are."

Finally, he glances up at you, and you smile a little, face open and honest. He squeezes your fingers and tries to return the little half-smile. Nothing is fixed, but your reassurances, as usual, take the sharpest edge off his anxiety.

"C'mon, lie with me a while. I'm sure Alexander will come barging in here soon, and I'd like some more cuddle time alone before that happens." You tug at his hands before crawling back to your spot and flopping down, grabbing your comforter where it's been falling slowly to the floor.

Jumin follows, lying down, pulling you close, and melding easily against you, around your every curve and edge. You cover the both of them, him helping to kick it out over his feet.

Then there's the quiet, in all its familiar comfort. He lives for these moments with you. You're safe and you're with him and he loves his life again like he hasn't since he was a child. You brought the warmth and wonder back into his world, his own personal sun.

And he will protect you, every single stubborn part of you. After all, he's a stubborn man himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and critiques are much appreciated! :)


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